


Mighty Reactions

by keita52



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Canonical Character Death, Drabble Collection, Episode reactions, Gen, Shameless Smut, Spoilers, The Mighty Nein as a group
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keita52/pseuds/keita52
Summary: Drabbles written in reaction to episodes of Critical Role, Campaign 2.





	1. Prizes

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during an imaginary lunch break in C2E17.

Fjord’s expression is somewhere between a glare and helpless pleading. “Molly –”

“I think it really brightens up the room,” Molly says, cheerfully ignoring Fjord. He is deftly balanced on the chair, hammer in one hand, nail resting at the corner of his mouth.

“This is an inn, we probably shouldn’t –”

“You’re such a wet blanket sometimes, Fjord.” Molly’s tail twitches playfully as he finds a good place to put the nail. He lifts one foot off the chair. Fjord makes a strangled sound, and Molly puts the foot back down, chuckling quietly.

Fjord mutters something under his breath. Molly ignores him, tapping the nail with the hammer, pushing it firmly into the wood. He hops down, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

The seven foot tapestry to to the Platinum Dragon takes up the entirety of the wall, the elaborately embroidered silver heads all looking in different directions. “Fine embroidery,” Molly says, running a finger over one loop of silver and blue thread.

“Yeah, uh, it is that,” Fjord agrees. This time, there is no glare in the expression, just a resigned why me.

Molly’s smile brightens and he gives Fjord an affectionate kiss on the forehead. “In a few days, you’ll forget it’s even there.”

“I doubt that.”

* * *

“No, it’s not crispy enough,” Yasha insists, putting the rat back over the fire in the inn’s hearth. “You need to cook it until everything that might have been living inside it is dead.”

“But they were selling these as pet rats,” Nott says, fighting back the urge to pull her rat away from the flames and dig into it. “Doesn’t that mean there weren’t any parasites?”

Yasha snorts. “Yeah, right. Never seen a rat without some parasites.”

Nott supposes that’s true. She looks at Yasha, trying to figure her out. Nott thinks she knows enough about everyone else in the Mighty Nein, enough to be able to have some idea of what they’ll do and where they’ll go. Yasha’s the last one, and Nott would be fine if Yasha just left like she did before, but the others seem to want her to stay.

“I never met anyone else who liked to eat rats,” Nott says after a few moments, leaving out besides other goblins.

Yasha shrugs. “You find them everywhere. Cities. Villages. Good source of meat if you can’t find anything else.” She pulls her rat back from the fire. “Almost.”

Nott takes that as permission to grab hers. It’s going to be too hot, she knows, and she hastily blows on it, trying not to seem too eager. A few more seconds pass, her fingers itching the whole time, before she bites in. She chews, swallows, ignoring the extra heat the whole time. “You know, you might be onto something.”

What might be the hint of a smile comes across Yasha’s face before she turns her attention back to her own rat.

* * *

“Hey! Hey Jester! Look at me!”

Jester looks up from her sketchbook, an oversized anvil with pink hearts left unfinished on the page. She is still giddy from what she managed to do at the shrine to the Allhammer, the warmth of a successful prank and the approval of the Traveler mingling inside her.

Beau’s tongue sticks out the side of her mouth, the tip of one wooden sword balanced on her outstretched right index finger. Nott, Yasha, and Caleb turn their heads to look at Beau, but that’s all Jester sees before she bends her head back to the sketchbook, flipping open a new page. She knows this is going to be good. “You can do it, Beau!”

“Yeah,” Beau replies, grinning, dropping her right arm and then flipping the sword up. Jester can tell that she’s trying to just catch the hilt, but the flip is off and the sword hits her arm before clattering to the ground. “Balls!”

“Try again!” Jester erases some of her drawing and leans forward, eyes wide, all her focus on Beau as she once again balances the wooden sword on her finger. Beau lifts one of her legs off the ground, extending her four limbs out in a completely ridiculous pose. Jester giggles and makes some adjustments to her drawing.

Beau brings her foot back down, centers herself, then flips the sword again. Another miss. Beau grunts and curses before picking the sword back up.

“Bless!” Jester lays her hand on Beau’s arm, letting some of the Trickster’s power flow through her to the other woman. Beau grins, and braces for another try.

The sword flips as Fjord and Molly come down the stairs, Beau finally catching the hilt and throwing her arms wide to everyone’s applause. Jester is tempted to shout at them that they need to stay still so she can draw this, but knows it is a scene that will have to live in her memory instead.


	2. Wounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written after Episode 18 of Campaign 2.

Caleb has done it. He’s told the whole truth. He never thought he would do that, never be able to get through the whole damn story of his greatest failure, his fuck-up, the burning shame that he will never be able to live down.

He likes to think he’d have told Nott, eventually. The way that she looked back at him when he asked if she would leave with him in the morning – like there was no question about it. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve her love.

(What else is love, but the ability to respond ‘yes’ to that kind of question without any hesitation?)

Beau… he would not have told Beau without her forcing his hand like this. If he had been going to tell anyone else in the Mighty Nein, it might have been … well. He might have said Jester, before she read that letter from her mother out loud to them. Her mother, who so obviously loves her. Fjord or Molly, then.

Regardless, he has told Beau, and he’s bracing himself for her response. 

“Caleb, that’s deeply fucked up, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” he manages to say, and it shocks him that her words are almost … compassionate.  _Not almost_ , he has to admit. She doesn’t… she doesn’t see him as a monster.

And even when he tries to hammer that home, tries to let both of them know how much anger and guilt he carries around, they refuse to see it. They are not turning their heads away. They are meeting his gaze. They still see him as  _Caleb,_  their friend, their comrade-in-arms. He wants to yell. He wants to bare the rest of his scarred and blackened soul to them and shout  _There is no living with what I have done. It is too much. Why can’t you see that?_

Beau tries to tell him that there is nothing to be ashamed of, and all he can do is laugh. Shame is all he has. Shame is what drives him. The desire to  _not fuck it up again_. To  _never_  be taken in and used like that. Never kill without … 

He has not figured that part out yet. Did they, did the Mighty Nein  _need_  to kill everything they have? There was always a purpose to the killing. Caleb would never have been able to stay with a group of wanton murderers.

 _Reason_  is as close as he can come to finishing that sentence. Reason implies thought, gives meaning to the decision. They killed at Alfield because the gnolls were killing and terrorizing. 

(They killed monsters for the Empire today, but he will not think about that.)

It is Nott who almost undoes him, in the end; this little goblin girl who has made a place for herself in his life. Who will not be denied, not be pushed aside. Almost, he can agree with her words, he can take that mask off, the mask that is twin to hers in some ways.

Not today, though. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song by Third Eye Blind: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTKM4EEfb68


	3. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for THAT THING in Episode 26.

No matter what happens, the three of them stay together.

Yasha takes down three guards the first time they try to separate her from Fjord and Jester. Her angry roars seem to shake the bars of the cage. Jester nearly breaks her chains trying to get to her and help. Fjord doesn’t summon his blade, though he desperately wants to. He knows that he needs to save that for when they have a chance of escaping.

The next time they try, it’s with Jester. Someone’s figured out that she’s a cleric and want her to help heal. Fjord and Yasha move together, silently coordinating to block the guards from getting at her. Yasha and Jester are valuable merchandise due to their divine blood, so it’s Fjord who takes the brunt of the pain.

He doesn’t mind if it keeps him with the others.

“They’re going to come for us,” Jester whispers later, resting a hand on Fjord’s forehead and sending a pulse of healing through him. “Caleb and Nott and Molly and Beau. They’re going to come.”

He nods, because it’s important to keep her spirits up. He can’t bear the thought of Jester, shining, happy Jester, becoming depressed and despondent.

It becomes a mantra they say to one another.  _They’re going to come_. Caleb is going to light them all on fire. Nott is going to sneak through and unlock their chains. Molly is going to slice through them, his blood on his blades mixing with theirs. Beau is going to do that series of complicated whirls that ends with her kicking them in the chin, in the groin.

Yasha joins them after a few nights, and they elaborate the story over time. Their friends found Shakaste and Calianna, and got them to help too. Frumpkin turns into a wolf, a tiger, a bear; sending limbs flying in his wake.

The story is no substitute for being watchful and keeping an eye out for chances to escape. They all know that. But their captors know what they’re doing, and no matter where they go, how many times they’re moved, they don’t ever get a chance that’s good enough to exploit.

“Is it them?” Jester asks one day, when there’s a ruckus at the edge of the camp. “Have they come?”

Yasha shakes her head sadly. The ruckus dies down, and they move on.

“Is it them?” Jester asks every time, and he has to tell her no. Hope is dying, day by day, as they travel to wherever it is they’re going.

And one day, it is.

One day, fires break out everywhere. They hear a series of kicks and grunts and thuds, and the  _twang_  of a crossbow bolt firing over and over again.

That day, they come. The rest of the Mighty Nein comes for the ones who were stolen from them. Nott frees them and Jester cries, hugging the little goblin girl tightly. Fjord pays back his pain to the guards that try to stop them. Yasha lets out days, weeks of pent-up rage, her wings unfurling, casting a shadow of death.

Frumpkin shows them the way as an owl, leading them back to where Caleb waits. Beau stands in front of him, her knuckles bruised. The Mighty Nein gather around and hug each other, crying and saying all the things they feared they never would.

But it dawns on the three recently freed captives that something is not right. There is no purple tiefling with a colorful coat and tattoos all across his body. The fourth person is a stranger, keeping himself apart the whole time.

It is Jester, of course, who finally dares to say it aloud.

“Where’s Molly?”

The silence is a more profound answer than a thousand words could have been.


	4. Triumph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keg/Beau, after Episode 29. Smut.

Beau and Keg are on each other as soon as the door closes behind them. This whole day has been nothing but vindi-fucking-cation and Beau’s only too happy to have the good times continue.

Keg’s armor goes first. Beau takes the opportunity to run her hands over Keg’s muscled limbs, feeling how tight they are, deepening her admiration for the dwarf. Fuck, she loves beefy women. That elf from the other day was fine, and certainly knew her shit, but Beau finds something about muscled and confident women immeasurably hot.

Keg is grinning as she yanks at Beau’s clothes, unwrapping her like a present. Beau grins back, fingers tangling themselves in Keg’s hair. Keg places a kiss against her bare stomach, sending a shiver up Beau’s spine. Her mouth drifts lower, and lower, and --

“So, we’re not making it to the bed then,” Beau says, her voice extra husky, her other hand running down Keg’s face and brushing her five o’clock shadow.

“I’ve always liked walls,” Keg says, and Beau takes a step back, more than happy to oblige.

Keg doesn’t waste any more time. As soon as Beau’s back hits the wall, Keg starts tasting her. Beau leans her head back and closes her eyes. _Fuck. Yes._  Keg’s hands grip Beau’s thighs, rough but not uncomfortably so. Beau grips Keg’s shoulders, pushing her forward, urging her on. They’re both too wired to take it slow. They’ve only known each other for five days, but what an intense fucking five days those have been. 

Keg is plainly happy to oblige, her tongue pressing against Beau’s walls, moving in short, rapid strokes. Beau moans, loud and unabashed, her hands wandering freely across Keg’s shoulders and back. She hears an echoing but muffled expression of delight from Keg, and grins. 

Beau presses her crotch forward. Keg responds by circling Beau’s nub with her tongue and Beau is just about undone by it. She’s panting, now, her fingertips digging into Keg’s skin, sweat rolling down her back from the heat blazing between them. Keg repeats the motion, her tongue achingly slow and deliberate. Beau vaguely wonders where she found the control to do that, and then she stops thinking entirely as Keg finally sends her over the edge. Her body tenses, hips jerking back and forth while Keg continues to lick. Beau knows she’s babbling nonsense like  _harder_  and _fuck this feels so good_ and doesn’t give a shit. 

She’s not quite done, but she’s unwilling to make Keg wait any longer. Beau steps away from the wall, bending to catch Keg’s lips with her own, tasting her own juices on Keg’s tongue. Her insides still throb with the trailing end of her climax as she maneuvers Keg against the wall. Beau falls to her knees and parts Keg’s legs as Keg had parted hers not so long ago. Keg is flushed, excited, with a wild grin on her face. Beau returns the grin and gets to work.

Keg tastes good. Like, _really_  good. Beau takes a moment to savor it, her tongue caressing the edges of Keg’s folds before delving deeper. Keg’s grip on her shoulders is tight and demanding, and Beau is only too happy to oblige. She’s wanted this for what feels like ages.

Keg swears every time Beau moves her tongue, slipping into Dwarven after only a few moments. Beau has no idea what she’s saying, but it sounds hot. Beau presses in further against Keg’s crotch, her mouth open as wide as it can go, her tongue darting frantically inside Keg. 

The sound that Keg makes when her climax overtakes her sets Beau’s insides aflame. She feels like she’s going to leave a puddle when she stands, because of how fucking _wet_  Keg is making her. Again. Damn, but she loves being able to recover quickly. Beau’s grinning by the time she stands up, her eyes locking on Keg’s.

“Damn,” Keg says.

“Damn,” Beau agrees.

Then they’re moving for one another, Beau stooping to kiss Keg hard, their movements carrying them towards the bed. 

Oh yeah. This is going to be a _fun_  night.


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jester's upset about something. Fjord tries to help.
> 
> (During Episode 33 of C2)

Fjord has been resting against the wall outside his room, reluctant to go inside and see Caduceus there instead of Molly. It makes sense, but that doesn’t mean that it feels _right._

Jester finally leaves her mom’s room and practically skips across the distance to her own room, but pauses when she sees Fjord there. Something clouds her expression, and Fjord straightens, pushing himself off the wall. “Is everything all right, Jester?”

“My mom is very pretty,” she replies.

“Well... yes.”

“And very nice and sweet.”

“...Yes?”

“And she’s had, like, a _lot_  of lovers. She knows things.” A hint of Jester’s usual wicked smile crosses her face before she goes back to -- well, _sulking_  really is the right word for it, Fjord reflects. “A _lot_  of things.”

“No doubt,” Fjord replies, torn between bolting for his room to get away from a really, really awkward conversation, and wanting to stay to make sure that Jester’s happy. They’ve all kind of silently agreed on that, him and Beau and Caleb and Nott. 

“So, you know, if you wanted to -- you know, have sex --”

“Jester!” Fjord swears he’s blushing everywhere. “No, no, I wouldn’t--”

“It’s okay, like I said before, you’re all a little in love with her, because everyone is, and that’s the way it _should_ be because she’s so pretty and smart --”

He has to stop this conversation before it goes somewhere even more awkward. “I -- I don’t want to have sex with your mother.”

“Why not?” She’s gone from being upset at the thought of him with her mother to being indignant that he _doesn’t_  want to be with her mother.

“Because --” Fjord flails for an answer. “Well, she hasn’t asked me.”

“I bet she would,” Jester says, arms folded across her chest, hunched in on herself. “Cause you’re really strong and handsome. She said so.”

“Jester, please, I’m really not interested.”

“Why _not?”_ Her voice nearly cracks on the last word.

“Jester --” He still doesn’t have a good answer, but he can’t bear to see her like this. He reaches out a hand, resting it on her arm. She pulls away with an angry shrug. “Hey. Why is this upsetting you so much?”

She turns her face away. Fjord once again has to talk himself out of retreating. “Hey,” he says again, kneeling so that he can look at her face. He sees the resemblance between her and her mom now. It’s in her cheekbones, her lips, her eyes. 

And in a startling moment of clarity, he _knows._  He knows why Jester’s so upset. He knows why he hasn’t been able to give her a good explanation. It’s terrifying and exhilarating. 

Fjord takes her chin in one hand and tilts her head, looking into her eyes. “ _You’re_  pretty,” he says. “And nice and smart and sweet, and ...” He almost can’t breathe, looking at the expression on her face, because maybe she’s just realizing it now as well. The other words of reassurance he was about to offer up stick in his throat.

“Fjord?” she asks in a very small voice.

He closes the distance and kisses her. She’s surprised for only a moment, and then she kisses him back. Fjord pulls her into his arms, marveling at how good it feels to have her there. 

When she breaks it off, he tries to fight back the pang of loss that comes. He makes himself keep looking at her, searching her face for clues.

“Do you want to see my room?” she asks, and everything he’s just gone through is worth it when her bright smile lights her face once more.

“I would love to,” he says, and lets himself be lead away.


End file.
